


Bleeding Edge

by XtaticPearl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Skating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious, World Figure Skating Championships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XtaticPearl/pseuds/XtaticPearl
Summary: An experienced but infamous ex-champion and a retired hockey player are forced together to win the impossible - a couple's figure skating championship that could bring back their lost glory. The only problem is that they cut through each other just as well as they slice through the ice.





	Bleeding Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ishipallthings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishipallthings/gifts).



Steve Rogers had once been carried around the stadium by his entire team, his tired self sitting on their shoulders as the crowds chanted his name. His shirt had a tear on the right sleeve and his left cheek had a bruise from a particularly hard tackle during that last minute. But Steve remembered Bucky looking up as Steve sat half on his shoulder, shooting him a weirdly proud grin as the Commandos roared madly to the crowds that were celebrating their victory.

Two weeks later, Steve had sat in a hospital waiting room, holding Bucky’s hockey stick and hearing the words _I am sorry but -_  on repeat in his head. A day after that, Steve had half-carried a drunk Bucky on his shoulder from in a fireman’s carry. It wasn’t a happy celebration, with one of them feeling an arm lighter. 

There had been no more stadiums after that day. Steve felt cold in the stadium, a chill that echoed from his bones.

He breathed in deeply and heaved his kit bag higher on his shoulder as he settled down on one of the seats in the empty audience section. The kit lands heavy at his feet but Steve has eyes only for the empty white stadium, icy white staring back at him from the rink.

[[MORE]]

“Been a long time since the ice touched you?” he heard a booming voice and Steve pushed down the urge to swear as he looked up to his right to see a tall, bald man in all-black clothes with an eye-patch. Steve had seen weirder, and he was the last person to question people about their quirks or unusual appearances, so he skipped that one to take in the aura of mild danger and major confidence that the man emitted as he shot Steve an amused look.  


“Long enough,” Steve replied, not mentioning that it was also not long enough at the same time. “You said you had something important to show me, Mr. Fury?”  


Steve’s ex-coach, Chester Phillips, had pulled out some big guilt tactics and wheedling urges to get Steve to pick up Nick Fury’s call when he got a series of them two weeks back. An ex-Olympian, Chester had said. Steve had picked up the parts of the gold medals, the nasty judge controversy of ‘96 and the vicious bar brawl that ended Fury’s career from a quick internet search. Steve was impressed, that was undeniable. He was also confused about a figure-skating coach calling on him though. 

“Why don’t you leave your kit in the lockers, Mr. Rogers,” Fury answered with that amused smile still in place, “Keep your skates though, we’ll need them hopefully.”  


Steve hadn’t worn his skates on a real, professional rink in a year and a half. The last time he had done was at Barclays back in Brooklyn, where Sam had nagged him to a game with the frickin Islanders during their practice session. Sam had joined the team after - after Steve and Bucky had dropped out, and Steve was happy for him. He really was, but Sam always had this knowing but sad look in his eyes when Steve would say it to him, the damn fool. He always told Steve that he could just come back to Brooklyn. He always told him that he could just come back home.

Steve lived in Boston now though, and he really didn’t know what home meant anymore.

He follows Fury to the lockers and feels the air contract around his ears for a minute at the familiarity and alien touch altogether. Fury doesn’t comment on the way Steve’s hockey stick looks battered and chipped. Steve doesn’t comment on the way Fury eyes him like a new machine to try out.

“So, any more dramatics before the real show? Sir.” Steve adds the last word as a forced lazy afterthought, feeling stifled but also strangely alert when Fury leads him to some exclusive indoor new rink through a long corridor.   


“Phillips briefed you on the basic?” Fury asked instead of answering Steve and the blond ex-hockey player clenched his jaw but nodded nonetheless.  


“You’ll really pay for the entire thing?” he confirmed, because this was something he could never risk. It had seemed surreal and quite a far-fetched reach when Phillips had told him that this deal could get Bucky the TS-2012AV model of prosthetic - the most advanced prosthetic line of the world and more expensive than any of them could hope to afford, more so because it was a prototype. The Stark Resilient chain of industries held the top spot for a lot of technological advances but Steve’s eye was on this alone. When Phillips had promised a written guarantee from the Stark responsible for the prosthetic himself, Steve had very less reasons to argue.   


Bucky had fought him on it, but Steve would give anything to help his best friend. Getting back on the ice was the least of them.

“The Stark word is as good as it gets, Rogers,” Fury said but with a faint note of annoyance like it had held some traces of bitterness in the past, “Now come on, I have to introduce you to the reason you’ve been brought here.”  


Fury held the door to a smaller rink open and Steve shot him a look before breathing in hard. He stepped in to the hard notes of _Back In Black_ coming from the rink.

——

Tony spun a quad lutz and spread his hands as he leaned forward to keep momentum, the crisp wind of momentum brushing through his hair, before sliding backwards over the chorus of the tune.

Hammer hated rocking it out to the hard songs. Tony remembered dragging him onto the ice anyway and then laughing himself sick hysterically when Hammer shouted abuse at him. He had called Tony a maniac. Tony had never told his dad that Hammer had also called him a lot of things in a dark room on a drunken night a week ago. 

When Hammer threatened Tony about ‘bringing him to his knees’ after that humiliating loss at the semis, Tony had laughed with a fake air and had drawled that ‘of course you’d like that, speaking from experience’. That quote had been printed more than Tony being called a drunk slut by Hammer’s manager, Vanko. Tony had joked about it to his dad.

Howard, of course, hadn’t found it funny. He had stopped finding anything funny after Tony had been born, maybe. 

Ty had found it funny, but of course, Tony knew that Ty had been sober and smug in that dark room that Hammer had been in that week ago. 

He bent low and made a graceful sweeping arc with his body, his feet skating smoothly along the unforgiving ice, eyes closing as the music crawled over his senses. He controlled his speed and spun twice, twisting his arms over his head and stretching his torso to a tight curve, imagining a teasing duet with the silence that accompanied him whenever he performed.

“Stark”  


Tony ran a hand over the leg he raised and bent over backwards, letting his head hang down and foot point towards the sky.

“Stark”  


The music was his best friend as he cut through the hard ice, his skates slicing over it with swift strokes.

“Tony!”  


Tony spun around thrice and opened his eyes as he came to a halt with practiced pressure on his toe pick.  ****His eyes fell on the imposing figure of Nick Fury, the Captain Hook impersonator Howard had hired in hopes of helping Tony score a win in the forthcoming championship. Tony had lesser hope for the guy than he had for Stane, and that guy had turned out to be a backstabbing son of a -

“Tony, meet your new partner,” Fury informed him in a smug voice that usually meant that he was sure of a new trick to counter Tony’s evasion tactics. It hadn’t worked during the last five partners Fury had tried to select, but Tony could appreciate the man’s tenacity.He shoots Fury his best amused smirk before looking over at the guy who was stepping forward from behind the coach. Tony felt a nagging familiarity in his brain as he took in the blond, 6’+ azure eyed man who was eyeing Tony’s music system in the corner of the rink with a frown before meeting Tony’s gaze. When their eyes met, Tony felt his spine stiffen in some weird sense of defensiveness at the look of strange judgement passing those startlingly clear blue eyes. The man held the posture of someone used to both giving and taking orders; a team leader or effective team player, at the least. “Fresh meat, huh?” Tony chuckled with a dry grin, raising an eyebrow at the new guy, “Where’d he pick you up from, blue eyes? You’re not from the spandex circle.” Tony throws in half a leer as he adds, “I would have remembered that, believe you me.”Fury looked like he was biting back a sigh but the new guy spoke up before Tony could make a comment about that.“Sorry to disappoint,” he said, sounding absolutely not sorry, “but I was busy doing my time as a Captain of a better circle.”Tony shot Fury a questioning look and the man gestured at the new guy as he replied.“Steve Rogers here was the Captain of the NY Commandos during their last winning season and on the roster of the Men’s National team during 2009,” Fury paused and dropped the bomb casually, “Ice hockey champion, to be concise.”

Tony blinked at Fury and then gave the new guy - Steve, a once over.“Wait,” Tony frowned and peered at Steve’s face closer, “Steve Rogers? Captain America Steve Rogers?”

“That..would be a moniker, yes,” Rogers answered wryly.“

The one who dropped that other player, what was his name,” Tony searched for the name and snapped his fingers, “Barnes, dropped the Barnes guy through the ice and lost him his arm and later quit the sport altogether? _That_ Steve Rogers?”

The look on Rogers’ face shifted from mild politeness to a blank coldness within seconds and Tony could feel the bite come before the words were out.

“Yeah, that one,” the guy said with such bitterness that Tony distantly felt amused, “And you must be Tony Stark. The one who abandoned his partner during the final routine of the Skate America, costing the title. _That_ Tony Stark.”

“Oh, keeping track of the classier ice sports, have we, Captain?” Tony asked, feeling his metaphorical claws spring out.

“Classy doesn’t seem to be the word suitable to the people in question, is it, Mr. Stark?” Rogers shot back with an amazing _fuck you_ grin.

“Oh but there are so many better words worthy enough, though,” Tony quipped and saw Rogers smirk in slight condescension

.“Worthy? I wouldn’t say that,” he replied, “I’ve seen the footage, you know. You skate for no one else but yourself, and worthy doesn’t seem best to describe that.”

“Skating for myself has seen me through more wins than losses, mon Capitan,” Tony quipped, with a smirk, “And all at my own credit. Not at the shoulders of a team.”

“Probably better off for the teams,” Rogers replied, whip fast, “Cause that would involve lying down on the wire and taking the brunt together.”“I think I would manage it better,” 

Tony shrugged even as he felt a strange adrenaline course through his veins, “Probably better to just cut the wire.”

“Always a way out”

“It’s not like I’m looking to be a martyr or a hero”

“Oh, _that’s_ a laugh”

“Alright!” Fury cut through the bickering and Tony turned to see the man eyeing both of them with an exasperated but curious look, “Stark, Rogers is our best bet. He’s our only bet, at this point.” Fury looked at Rogers and continued, “Rogers, Stark knows his job. Anything else shouldn’t matter, because this is a job and that’s the only thing you should be concerned about. Now, get a hold over yourselves and let’s get down to business.”

“You want a _hockey player_ to be my partner for a _figure skating_ event,” Tony waved his hand in Rogers’ direction, “Are you crazy, Fury? Has the pirate madness finally taken you? This is the most ridiculous thing you could even think about! I mean, look at him -” Tony looked Rogers over from head to toe, “- the guy is not used to it. He won’t be able to last one routine let alone one event. And I cannot handle novices!”

“I’m not a _novice_!” Rogers snapped, clearly getting the wrong idea, “And I can last longer than you. Ice isn’t new to me.”

“Have you even worn a figure skate before?” Tony laughed and Rogers glared.

“Can’t be much different from the normal one,” he shot back and Tony was about to explain how horrifically wrong the guy was when he continued, “Also, you’re the one who desperately needs a partner, so I’d think you’d be a little more interested in ways to try than to throw away chances.”

“ _Desperately_ \- There’s no desperation for -”

“And I have a better memory than you,” Rogers cut in, clearly hinting at the incident when Tony had frozen mid-routine and abandoned Hammer.

“Well, good, then you can remember your way out because -”

“ - you’re terrified I’ll be good?” Rogers asks with a challenging smirk and Tony wants to punch his perfect teeth.

“Tell me that after your ass has kissed the ice a hundred times,” Tony answered, “Fine, you want to prove you’re good? Let’s try it out. One minute. If you can last one minute with me on the ice, I’ll back off.”

“You’re on,” Rogers squared his jaw and Tony snorted.“Get ready to be off when you lose, Rogers.”

“Let’s go a few rounds,” Rogers answered and stalked off to the stand to put on a pair of skates from the pile kept on the rack.Tony shot Fury a look and got back a _look_ before gliding back onto the center of the rink, wondering how he had gone from pushing Rogers’ buttons to agreeing to skate with him for a whole minute.Rogers put on his skates and wobbled for a second before regaining his balance, gliding over to where Tony stood.

“Ready when you are,” he said and Tony eyed the man with a small amount of pity before they began.

—–

Steve trips three times in twenty seconds.He would love to blame the strangeness of wearing figure skates for the first time, but he knows his own lie when he thinks it. It’s not the skates. It’s not his inexperience of figure skating, because they aren’t doing a routine. It isn’t a gap in practice.It’s the goddamned partner he’s trying to keep up with. Steve knows that he’s good at skating. He’s spent a majority of his life with it, has had his best and worst memories linked to it. He knows ice and he knows how to skate across it better than most.

Tony Stark, Steve realizes, isn’t _most_. Because Tony Stark isn’t skating. He’s _flying_.

Steve is tempted to pause and peer down at the man’s feet, wondering if he’ll see them even touch the ice at the speed he’s going. Steve can almost picture the man taking off from the rink and swooping through the air with the sheer energy of his speed and control.The worst part though, isn’t that. The worst part is the way Tony looks even in that speed.Steve had watched ballet recitals at Natasha’s insistence, with Bucky to accompany him seeing as Natasha was Bucky’s girlfriend. He knew all about grace and precision and control. He had seen it in Natasha, even outside the stage.

 If Natasha had witnessed Tony today she would have been impressed, Steve thought hysterically. 

Where Steve was focused on getting through the minute without landing on his ass, Tony was twirling and swirling and twisting his way around the rink, exuding power and confidence with his trademark smirk taunting the world. When the man skated in circles around Steve during one of his preciously mildly slower seconds, Steve had a good mind to grab on and drag the man with him if he were to fall.Before he could curb the thought, his hand was shooting out and Steve’s palm wrapped around Tony’s wrist.Tony startled and tried to tug his hand away but Steve had already decided that this was his best bet to keep up with the man.

“Let go” Tony bit out, even as he slid out faster glides.

“Twenty seconds more,” Steve replied instead and Tony shot back a glare over his shoulder before putting actual effort to skate harder.

It was during the last five seconds that Steve never expected Tony to turn around and skate the other way, turning on his skate at the same spot and unintentionally jerking Tony back. The force of the jerk sent Tony spinning back and he collided with Steve’s chest, sending them both tumbling down.

“Fucking -”

“Sorr -”

“Time’s up!” Fury called out from the stands and Steve jerked to look up at Tony, who was lying on top of Steve when they had fallen. The guy looked like he was about to bite Steve’s head off before his gaze turned introspective and then he sighed, the light air brushing Steve’s face

.“I didn’t - You were leaving,” Steve said stupidly and wanted to whack his own head when he left it at that instead of not explaining that Tony had been leaving in the other direction.Tony raised an eyebrow and Steve almost told him to leave it when the guy sighed and replied,

“And I guess you’re staying.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to see a continuation or sequel of this, drop a comment.


End file.
